The Game That Made Me Cry Was Not the One I Played

I used to think winning was the point.

Then I played my first game at 3 a.m., alone, scrolling through static numbers on a cracked screen—Rs. 10 for one card, no bonus, no crowd. Just me and the algorithm whispering back: ‘You don’t lose control… you were never really in charge.’

It wasn’t about odds. It was about rhythm.

The Thunder Bingo app doesn’t reward you—it reveals you.

Each number drawn felt like a hymn from an empty temple: slow fade transitions, deep indigo (#1E1E3F) background, Fira Code font ticking like rain on glass.

I stopped chasing jackpots.

I started watching how others posted their losses—not as shame, but as sacred artifacts. A man who missed three rounds and still smiled? That’s the real win.

My therapist? My meditation app—Headspace—logging every session like journaling in blood and code.

They call it ‘gamification.’

I call it grief dressed as joy.

The system doesn’t care if you win.

It cares if you show up—with nothing but intent—and let the silence speak for you.

Last week, during Zeus Night Festival, I placed 27th.

Won fifty free cards and Rs. 2,000 in cash.

Didn’t feel rich.

Felt awake.